Coffee & Books Novels & Stories

After that, we went to a book cafe near by, they had a rule that you had to buy a cup of coffee to read a book and it was a good idea. I dropped my bags besides Max who was flirting with the barista who seemed to be enjoying what was going on. I walked through the store looking for one of my favorite books - Anne of the green gables. That was a book I read when I was younger and that book was one hell of a great one. "I got his number." Max came squealing. "Yeah, cool." I said while I continued to look for the book. "What?" Max asked with raised brows.

Everett I yawn loudly, scrubbing my hand down my face as I wipe down the counters and wait for the machines to warm up. The smell of coffee and baked bread wafts through the small coffee shop I work in. It's connected to a book store so it's always quiet this early in the morning, peaceful in a way that I rarely get anywhere else in my life. I turn my head to the sound of the door that connects the shop to the store opening, little Mrs. Brainerd shuffling through. I smile at her fluffy white hair and cardigan as she makes her way over to me slowly.

Not about court documents or Kristina or Clara. Just… life. He told me about a book he was reading, some nonfiction memoir he couldn’t put down. I told him about a coffee brand I had been obsessed with lately. He laughed when I described how I nearly burned down the kitchen trying to roast beans myself. We wandered into another café down the block after lunch—just because we liked the smell. The place had mismatched chairs and old jazz playing low through hidden speakers. Julian ordered us two slices of cake we didn’t need, and we shared one fork like we were teenagers again.

“Yes, you can. I got this.” Lily turned back to Atlas, who was waiting patiently. After a beat, she sighed. “Fine. But if this is some elaborate scheme to get me into a hiking trail, I’m out.” Atlas laughed. “Noted. Come on.” Lily wasn’t sure what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. “A bookstore café?” she asked as they stepped inside the cozy space. Atlas grinned. “You get coffee and books. It’s basically your version of paradise.” Lily glanced around, taking in the warm lighting and endless rows of bookshelves. She had to admit it was perfect.

I have tried drinking it and got sick every time I gagged on the taste. Ms. Roth: I actually am not big on coffee right now. Do they have any tea? Don't need to tell him no thank you and have him order me one anyway. Mr. Cancade: Yes Ms. Roth: What kind? Mr. Cancade: www.thebookcornercoffee.com/menu I click the link going to the tea tab. Good they have fruit caffeine free tea. They even have boba. Ms. Roth: That's a cute little place. I think I will go after work someday. I would like tropical ginger tea. Please.

But. "Are... you alright, sir?" Fabian furrows his brow. "Why do you ask?" He sips the still-steaming coffee, its aroma akin to nicotine. Addictive. For Fabian, the smell of coffee triggers many thoughts. "Is the sugar just as I like it, Irena?" "Yes, sir," Irena responds without hesitation. She lets her boss enjoy his coffee, though she harbors her own worries. "You know," Fabian puts down his cup, resting his chin on his hands while staring intently at the secretary he hasn't invited to sit yet. "If it weren't Alex working as the barista, you wouldn't need to buy this coffee."

Cory The small cafe I had chosen was tucked into a quiet corner of the city. Not one of the polished, glittery establishments where business tycoons flaunted their wealth, but a moderate place, with worn brick walls, the faint aroma of roasted beans and a shelf filled with books for patrons to borrow. I ordered a cup of espresso, then chose a seat by the window. Outside, the city moved in its usual rush, but, in here, the world slowed. The hush of conversations, the clink of cups, the hiss of steaming milk. It was almost comforting.

The smell of coffee hits me stronger as we move deeper into the bookstore, and suddenly my stomach twists. “Oh no.” Cillian’s attention snaps fully toward me instantly. “What?” “The coffee smells weird.” He stares at the cup in his hand like it personally betrayed him. “You asked for it.” “I know.” I let out, scrunching my nose. “You drank half already.” He says, looking confused between me and the coffee. “I know!” An older woman near the fiction shelves glances toward us briefly, smiling softly like she finds the interaction adorable. The realization hits me immediately. We look normal. Like a couple. Not a mafia king and emotionally unstable pregnant survivor. Just… people.

Ashwin adjusted the display of freshly baked pastries at Mount Haven Bookstore and Café, his fingers brushing against the warm surface of a croissant as he arranged them neatly on the counter. The smell of coffee, sugar, and aged books blended into a comforting atmosphere that made it one of his favorite places in the world.

The spines of the books seem to whisper secrets, their titles and authors a testament to the vast expanse of human knowledge and creativity. To my left, a cozy chair, its plush cushions and soft blankets an invitation to sink in and get lost in a good book. A side table holds a steaming cup of coffee, its aroma wafting up to tease his senses. The coffee shop in the corner, with its bustling baristas and gentle chatter, adds a lively touch to the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.